Thursday, June 30, 2011

Tough Questions

One of the biggest things that sucks about adulthood, is having to answer the tough questions. Making the hard decisions. I had to decide to euthanize (kill) my dog when she got sick. I don't usually pray but I did then: for her to die peacefully so I didn't have to make that call. The Universe said, "too bad for you."
Today had to laugh at myself for using the guidance of a magic 8 ball. It was given to me by a friend who swore it was never wrong... and it usually isn't (weird). Come on... we all do something ridiculous in blind faith. Whether you make a wish at 11:11, throw pennies into fountains, or wish on the first star you see at night, we all do it. So out of desperation to seek answers to my toughest questions I lapsed in logical thinking to consult the all-magical 8 ball. I know I can't leave my fate up to a toy, but wouldn't it be great if we all had a personal consultant to tell us exactly what to do and where to go? Would this result in a lack of free will? Not really. Ultimately it would your decision, but if you could count on the answer as being the right one, life would be a lot easier.
I believe all things that are supposed to happen, will... eventually. But how do you make sure you're moving in the right direction? And what happens when you go in the opposite direction? Does it all work itself out or will the rest of your life be a cluster of nothing being as it should? Unanswerable questions, I know. I also know they plague the minds of about 6 billion people. We all take chances hoping that we're doing the right thing... and hoping there will be an invisible safety net to keep us from falling too far. Perhaps I just need to reach a higher state of enlightenment, or work on my progress in self-actualizing. Maybe then, I'll have the answers.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Pepper




We always referred to Chopper and Scooter as "salt and pepper". After Chopper's initial puppy stage, the two were inseparable. Salt and Pepper. As Scooter got older and wasn't as active as she once was, Sophie took over as Chopper's partner in crime. Since Scooter died June 5th, Sophie has tried to find her place with me as well, but I have misplaced resentment of her for being alive while Scooter isn't.


Scooter was one of the most amazing animals I've ever known. Though she was 8 when we had our first baby, she never snapped at him if he pulled on her ears, or put his hand in her food bowl. If he cried, she would run back and forth between him and where I was, jumping and barking at me to move my butt. When I was giving birth to Drew, a friend of mine had to physically restrain her from jumping into the birth pool. Her never let her concern for me and my family take a break.


Yesterday, I picked up her ashes from the vet. I expected the box to be bigger and I don't know why. When we got home the kids wanted to see the contents of the small dark cherry box. I had explained to them ahead of time that Scooter was "Scooter sand" now. When I opened the box I held my breath expecting a puff of ashes, but they were contained in a plastic bag. It didn't feel right picking the bag up, but I did. I've never seen cremated ashes and was slightly stunned at what they looked like: pepper. Gray and white particles mixed together. The boys lost interest very quickly but I couldn't help studying the contents of that bag. I was searching for something that would hold any proof that it was her... something recognizable. Obviously I didn't find anything. I don't know if it would have made it more real to me, but I needed "proof" that she was actually gone. I held and pet her head while she died, and I felt her take her last breath. I searched her eyes for her soul and found it wasn't there anymore. I stroked her ears for a bit after she was gone, told myself she couldn't feel it, but couldn't stop. I wondered in that moment, if the grief I felt was worth the time I had with her.


Whenever you acquire a pet, you know they are going to die before you. We know this, and we give them all our love anyway.


The Taoist in me says "if life is infinite, then this is not life" (Dyer). I believe the core of who she is, is moving on. But I know she isn't with me, and that makes it hard to be happy for her.


Regardless of my sadness now, the conclusion I have come to is the grief is worth it. The saying "it is better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all" is so true. To be alive is to make true connections to others around you, to see their differences and appreciate how amazing they are. To receive that unconditional acceptance keeps you moving through the tough times. If you never knew love, you'd have nothing to live for.


We start relationships, and get our hearts broken. We have children and live in constant fear for their safety. Wouldn't it be easier to avoid these things? Absolutely. But opting out on the good times... that would not be worth missing.